Beauty and the Beast
by cwtigerlily
Summary: Seven years after the war, a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, Dramione style. Draco is still a spoiled brat and Hermione is confused and longing for something more than her boring life at the ministry. Non-epilogue compliant.
1. Prologue

**Chapter 1**

**Summary: **Seven years after the war, a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, Dramione style. Draco is still a spoiled brat and Hermione is confused and longing for something more than her boring life at the ministry. Non-epilogue compliant.

**Author's Note: **This is my first time ever writing fiction. I have been pouring over Dramione fanfics for a while, and this story has been swimming in my head. I hope it comes across well. All feedback is great and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want to continue to improve my writing as I continue with this story.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any version of Beauty and the Beast. If I did I would not be testing my writing skills on fanfiction.

Seven years after the end of the war, Draco Malfoy threw himself into the tall green chair – more of a throne really – that headed the dining room table in Malfoy Manner. He smirked at the mess surrounding him.

The night before had been excellent – as usual. Now that he lived alone at Malfoy Manner (three years after the war his father simply vanished, and after Lucius's disappearance his mother had gradually withered away before dying a year later), Draco felt a need to fill the Manner with people as much as possible. The place was huge, more like an ancient castle than a modern mansion, and the constant silence was unnerving. To abate the quiet and creeping loneliness, Draco threw parties at least once a week – huge extravaganzas only attended by the most elite and powerful pure-bloods. Lately, his parties had become less part of the elite social scene and more of a way for Draco and his old Slytherin mates to get drunk and let lose. His company didn't really matter though – he had everything his heart desired, and if he needed anything else, he could simply buy it.

While Draco surveyed his domain, he heard a loud booming knock echo through the manner. That was odd – the front doors had ancient knockers, but no one ever used them. Within a few seconds, a grisly-looking house elf appeared beside him.

"Master Malfoy – there is an old woman at the door asking for you."

Draco rolled his eyes. No matter how long he had lived here, the house elves simply would not comprehend certain facts, like the idea that you sent away crazy old women and did not bother the master about it.

"Why are you bothering me? Send her away." Draco glared at the elf.

"I tried master, but she simply wouldn't leave. She insisted on speaking to the master of the house."

Draco stood up, angry now. "Fine. I will deal with her. But mark my words you will be punished for this stupidity." He marched out of the room, accidentally stepping in a pile of vomit on his way out. "And clean this up!" He swirled on his heal, robes billowing around him.

He threw open the door, the gel in his pale blonde hair almost instantly freezing in place from the blast of cold air. He glared at the cloaked figure in front of him. "Who are you disturbing my rest?"

The figure turned and Draco saw the face of an old woman. She appeared to be wearing rags. She was shivering. "Excuse me sir, but I am looking for a place to stay – it is so very cold. My children are just down the hill – could you give us a place for the night? Your butler said I would need to pay, but all I have is this." She drew a single beautiful red rose from somewhere underneath her rags.

Draco was appalled. How _dare_ she. He knocked the rose from her hand. "Do you have any idea who I am? I am Draco Malfoy the last of a long line of great pure-blood witches and wizards –"

The woman stared at him uncomprehending.

Draco's eyes grew. "You aren't even a witch are you? How the hell did you find this place? You are just a pathetic, weak, ugly little muggle. Get the hell off my property." He started to close the door in her face.

A gnarled hand caught the door, surprisingly strong. He looked at her, shock and disgust crossing his face, as she caught his eye. "Do not be deceived young man – beauty and true strength are found within."

Draco smirked once again. "Is that supposed to be some piece of motherly advice? Go to hell." With that, he slammed the door in her face and started to walk back down the hallway.

Before he got more than ten feet away, both massive doors blew open and Draco was thrown to the ground by the blast of cold wind. He turned his body, blinking as he confronted a massive blinding white light. He pulled his wand from his pocket only to have it thrown from his hand by a force beyond his control.

Draco scooted backwards as fast as he could, but not fast enough. A beautiful woman, she looked almost veela, walked out of the blinding light. The doors slammed shut behind her.

"You stupid, selfish, spoiled, boy." Her voice was beautiful, but held an ancient power Draco could not pinpoint.

Draco coughed and found himself blushing. He slowly scrambled to his feet. "I – um – I'm sorry for the misunderstanding ma'am. Please – you are welcome to stay the night. There are any number of rooms upstairs – you can take your pick."

"Too late Draco. Too late." Her voice was soft and held pity. She looked at him sadly.

The silence dragged on a little too long for comfort. "Too late for what exactly?" Draco fidgeted under her gaze. "You can pick a room and the elves will take care of anything you need – you and your kids too." As she continued to look at him with a sad smile, Draco began to grow nervous. "That is what you want right?"

"You poor cruel boy. I had hoped the rumors were false, but there is truly no love in your heart. It is about time you looked the same on the outside as you do within."

"What are you –" Draco started to respond but was stopped mid-sentence by another blinding white light which eventually faded into blackness.

Draco awoke, unsure if it was a few days or a few minutes later. His head was pounding and his whole

body felt as if he had just been run through a sledgehammer. He put a hand over his eyes and realized that something wasn't right. His hand felt furry. He slowly lifted his hand away from his face and rather than seeing his normal flawless skin saw a dark brown fur._ What the hell? _His eyes traveled up his arms and he found himself scurrying into a standing position as he stared down at himself. He appeared to be covered in thick fur. His fingers ended in claws. He started to scream but instead of hearing his voice he heard a massive roar.

He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, rotating from two legs to four. After running in endless circles trying to escape himself, he ended up in his mother's old bedroom in the highest room of the tallest tower. He saw the back of the beautiful woman before him. He fell to his knees.

"_What the hell have you done to me?_"

She turned. "Ah Draco. About time for you to wake-up. You seem to have gotten your power of speech back remarkably fast as well, though your voice is much deeper. That will make this easier I hope."

Draco stared at her uncomprehendingly. She sighed and pointed to her left. There was a full-length mirror in the corner. He slowly moved towards it, finally stopping to stare at himself in the mirror. After quite a bit of silence he spoke in a rather calm voice. "I look like a wolf on its hind legs wearing pants."

He heard a tinkling laughter behind him. "That is a rather apt description. I didn't want to go full werewolf on you – they are quite ugly, even for what you have done. And the last time I did this I aimed for more of a bear, but he ended up being seven feet tall poor fellow – I think that alone made the girl take a bit longer to adjust. I figured I would give you more of a chance with the wooing and all. You should be grateful."

He turned around, his face suddenly contorted with fur and rage. "Change me back or so help me I'll –" He stopped, his hand – or would it be better to call it a paw? – had been groping in his pocket for his wand to find it empty.

The woman laughed again. "Oh no Draco, it is not that easy. No magic for you until you have lifted the spell. And don't expect any visitors either – your home has been made Unplottable and no one can Apparate in or out. You are stuck here."

He blinked. _No escape?_ He immediately tried to Apparate and nothing happened. Without thinking, he threw himself at the woman, unconsciously baring his teeth and lengthening his claws. He didn't get more than a few feet before running straight into an invisible wall. Relentlessly, he continued to attempt to attack her until he finally collapsed from exhaustion.

"Are you done yet?" She sounded bored and slightly annoyed.

He finally sat up and looked at her. "Fine, I'll play your dumb little game. How do I break the spell?"

She smiled. "Now we are getting somewhere." She turned to reveal a glass case with a single red rose – the same rose he had thrown from her hand when she came to the door.

"This is an enchanted rose. It will bloom for a single year, during which you must learn to love another and earn her love in return. If you have not done this by the time the last petal falls, you will be doomed to remain a beast for all time. At that time, your house will return to its normal location so that everyone can see you for who truly are – a monster."

He attempted to laugh, but the noise sounded more like a choked cough. "So I just have to wait out a year and then someone can fix this. Sounds good to me."

For the first time her face grew hard. "Do not doubt my magic boy. I have existed much longer than you or anyone in your precious pure-blood line. I come from a time when everyone could wield magic – there was no petty distinction between wizard and muggle. No one can undo this spell. You will learn to love – or you will remain a beast for all time."

She turned and appeared to be about to leave when Draco's voice – now frightened – called to her. "Wait – I don't understand. If it is impossible to find this place and I cannot leave, then how will anyone ever find me? I can't even see the rest of the world. You cannot make this entirely hopeless – you have to be fair!"

She slowly shook her head at him, but her face softened. "There have been times in your life Draco Malfoy where you have been anything but fair. Regardless, I promise to give you a chance. There is a mirror beside the rose. By looking into it you can see whoever you wish. A person will find this place if she is truly lost and confused as to what she is looking for. I promise that someone will stumble this way. She will be unable to find her way out of the forest surrounding the castle unless you willingly let her go during the year of your imprisonment. If she has seen this mansion before, she will not remember it. She will not know who you truly are. You will be unable to tell her you are under a curse of course or what her part to play is. You must learn to love her on your own, and she must find the beauty in you and love you in return. You will be provided for during the year. Your servants chose to stay with you, though you will be unable to see them. I will be watching you Draco. You have the beauty inside of you – you just have never let it out." She turned and vanished in thin air.

Draco sat slowly on his mother's old bed, finally alone. He was tempted to search for his wand, but saw no reason to. He did not doubt the enchantress. She was obviously extremely powerful. He was just at a loss as to what to do next.

He slowly sat up and caught a glimpse at his reflection in the long mirror. He was covered in hair, with a wolfish head, sharp pointed teeth and claws on his hands and feet. He was wearing pants that he hoped were enchanted to stay cleaned, as he had no idea how to get them on or off between his claws and the fact that he was a bit larger than his normal size. He attempted to smile at himself and was greeted by a horrible contortion that made him look worse than before. With a savage roar he threw himself at the mirror and it shattered into bits. He tore through the castle, tearing apart things at random.

As the next two weeks dragged on and the enchantress's words seemed to be reinforced he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love …. a beast?


	2. Chapter 1  Hermione

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any version of Beauty and the Beast. If I did I would not be testing my writing skills on fanfiction.

Seven years after the end of the war, Hermione Granger stood at the top of the hill as dawn's first light hit the tops of the small stores and cottages of the Knotting Lane, the small village nearby the Burrow. The tiny village, although unknown to the non-magical world, was a far cry from the craziness of London and the Ministry of Magic, particularly with the aftermath of Voldemort's demise.

At first, Hermione had welcomed her quiet life in the odd town. She had spent almost all of her adolescence on a quest to stop Voldemort, and she was more than happy to follow the love of her life, Ron Weasley, back to the place he had grown up. She took up residency in a few small rooms for rent at the back of the village inn, and let herself unwind. She did free-lance research for the ministry and a few other magical organizations when she felt like it. Otherwise she spent her time wandering the country-side, reading books, and spending time with Ron and his family. Harry came and went as often as he could, though he spent a majority of his time at the ministry in his position as head of the Auror department.

For seven years she had let herself relax and languish in Ron's kind affection. She remembered their first real date, his bad jokes, and, of course, the night that he had popped the question two years ago. He wanted to get married in the chapel in the village – the same place that his parents had gotten married in. She had no objections, and even didn't mind when she realized that the waiting list was two years long.

That should have been her first sign that something was not quite right.

She stared down at the quiet village. Everyone here knew her and Ron, and absolutely everything about them. If she was honest, they still all seemed to blend together in her mind. They were all very predictable. Every day was almost always exactly like the one before.

She smiled at the baker who was carrying the same large wooden tray with the same bread and rolls to sell to the same people. She would swear on her life that he had not made a single new item since the morning that she first arrived.

"Good morning Miss Granger, where are you off to today?" He smiled at her without seeming to really see her.

She smiled back, glad that he was making the effort at conversation. She was under the impression most of the villagers didn't like her very much. "The bookshop! I just finished the most wonderful story about a beanstalk and an ogre –"

"Marie!" He turned away from her, not really listening, to yell for his wife.

She sighed and shook her head to continue walking. No matter how long she had been here, she was still not part of any crowd. She just could not bring herself to gossip about boys and clothes all day. Not when there was so much of the world to see. They all thought her strange; she spent a majority of her time in the bookshop after all. Half the people here were still under the misconception that it was somehow wrong for a woman to read.

The bell on the door clanged as she pushed it open gently. "Good morning sir! I have come to return the book I borrowed."

"Finished already?" The kind old man turned around, carefully getting off the ladder he had been standing on.

"Well, I couldn't put it down. Have you got anything new?"

"Not since yesterday!"

"That's alright. I will borrow - this one."

"That one! But you've read it twice!"

"But it's my favorite!" Hermione's face lit up. "Far off places, daring swordfights, magic spells, and a prince in disguise!"

"If you love it that much, it is yours."

"But sir!"

"I insist."

"Thank you! Thank you very much!" Hermione was thrilled with her luck. She was happy enough to be allowed to use the bookstore as her own personal library – the village was too small to have one. Somehow, however, she had managed to read every book in the quaint store over the last seven years. She was back to rereading her favorites – the adventure stories.

She threw herself down on a bench, flipping through the book to find her favorite parts. _Here's where she meets Prince Charming but she won't discover that it's him till chapter three._

She never noticed the village girls walking past her laughing quietly behind their hands. She was not the laughingstock of the town, exactly, but she was not respected either. Most of the villagers just thought she was quite odd. None of the girls had any idea what Ron Weasley saw in her, whether she was a past war hero or not.

Hermione slammed shut the cover of the book and found herself wandering to the very edge of town. On the outskirts of the forest that touched the edge of the village was a cliff with the most amazing view of the valley far below. She stood on a rock near its edge and felt herself longing for something she hadn't tasted in a while.

_What happened to you? _A small voice she believed to have been long gone spoke in her head._ You were amazing – the brightest witch of your generation. You had the world at your fingertips. Where is the girl who fought off the darkest wizard in history? Where is the girl that did not crack through searing pain when Bellatrix scarred her flesh? Where is the lioness – the woman who planned to make the world magnificent?_

She stared at all of the land before her – the endless valleys and hills and trees and waterways. There was so much out there to see and do and explore and learn. She did not have to give up on adventure just because Lord Voldemort was dead. She craved it; she wanted that feeling of solving an impossible puzzle; that feeling that she could die at any second; that feeling of the utter unknown.

She looked back and glanced at her future. In less than twenty-four hours she would no longer be Miss Hermione Granger, but she would become Mrs. Ronald Weasley.

And in that second she realized that maybe – just maybe – she was not ready yet.

Just one more day of adventure. Just one more day of feeling alive again. She was twenty-four years old damn it, and Ron was ready for her to settle down and start her own Weasley broad. She needed one more taste of it – one more taste of the world. At least for a little while.

She pulled off her diamond engagement ring and hid it underneath a tiny rock beside the one she was standing on. She didn't want to be attached to Ron or the village that made up her life today. She would go back to London, maybe Hogsmeade, hell, maybe even Paris or Cairo or any of those places she had always wanted to go and had never been – she would see as much as she can as an independent women. She would breathe it all in one more time.

She closed her eyes and felt her body start to twist in that awful way that meant she was apparating. Rather than focusing on London, however, her mind kept wandering over a few simple words: "_It might be grand, to have someone understand, I want so much more than they've got planned..."_


	3. Chapter 2  Draco

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any version of Beauty and the Beast. If I did I would not be testing my writing skills on fanfiction.

"HEEEELLLLPPPPP!" _Crash._

Draco's head snapped up, and his ears twitched in opposing directions. Something was moving outside of his cave.

In the last month he hadn't heard a single sound other than his own breathing. Food was on the dining room table every night, but he never saw who put it there or when. Everything he broke was either cleaned up or fixed by the next morning. He had come to think of Malfoy Manor as his cave, as he was sure it had begun to stink of hairy animal.

For the first time in weeks, something else was moving on his property. Not just something, but something that could speak. He found himself growing hopeful. Someone to get this damn curse off him! Maybe they could take him to St. Mungo's…

As soon as he stepped outside, he realized his chance for help were slim. There was a body on the ground a hundred feet away, surrounded by tree branches. Apparently, whoever it was had fallen out of the sky and through his old oak tree. _Mother would have been furious. _

He approached the body, circling it carefully. It was definitely female, with a mass of brown hair spread everywhere. He nudged it with his foot, but it didn't move. Fear suddenly gripped him. This must be the girl the enchantress had been referring to, the one she would send his way. But what moron would fall out of the sky and through a tree? What if – what if she wasn't a witch at all?

What if, as some sort of cruel joke, that damn witch had sent him a muggle?

He tried to scream and ended up roaring instead. The ground shook, and the girl shifted, slowly beginning to sit up. Without thinking clearly, he slammed her in the back of her head with his paw, knocking her out again.

_What the bloody hell Draco? She can't learn to worship you if you kill her! Even Pansy wouldn't love you from the grave…_

Draco started to berate himself, but realized that it probably would not have been best for her to have first met him towering over her, roaring like an animal. If she didn't die from shock, it would take the next eleven months to persuade her to come out of whatever room she locked herself up in.

He nudged her again, this time flipping her over. For the first time in a month, a genuine smile crossed his face. This would be easy. She was hot.

Not in a supermodel way, but she was pretty. The brown hair seemed to frame her face, her skin appeared flawless, and her jeans and t-shirt hugged her curves. If the way she was laying was any sign, she didn't even appear to have broken any limbs. Just woo her a little more than usual, and she would be putty in his hands in a week, maybe two if she took a while to get over his appearance. Get her to say those blasted words and pow! He would be out of here in a month tops and back to getting drunk every night.

However, unless he wanted to knock her out again, he was going to have to move her into a room somewhere in the Manor. Subconsciously, he reached for his wand. "Damn it." After reviewing the options in his head, he bent down and threw her over his shoulder. No way was he going to cradle some possible-muggle in his arms. He walked her to the closest bedroom and tossed her onto the bed. She hadn't moved the whole time. Maybe he hit her harder than he thought.

A small thump distracted him. Apparently she had been holding a small purse, and it hit the floor. Something long was sticking out of the top. He bent over to pick it up, and a wand fell onto the ground.

"TWhat a relief. She's a witch."

He picked up the rest of her bag, dumping the contents onto the bed. A wallet, an odd device with numbers on it that he remember Blaise explaining that it was something called a fone, a stick of gum, three paperbacks, and a note with a heart on the front with "R + H" written inside. He flipped it open.

_Mione,_

_I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Just as a warning, Mom bought us a house down the street as her present. We won't even have to move that far away! We can live happily ever after forever. _

_Love,_

_Ron_

_P..S. Mom was talking about grandchildren again. No pressure, but she wants a girl._

Draco stared at the letter and forced himself to reread it. He had to be wrong.

He stared hard at the letters on the front, the names on the inside, and the three books in the bag. He turned to look at the girl on the bed. The brown bush on her head. The annoyingly small nose. The know-it-all look on her face, even as she was unconscious.

He dropped the letter on the floor, and managed to back up three steps before letting out a savage roar.

This was even worse than a muggle. The crazy witch had sent him a mudblood.

And not just any mudblood.

She sent him bloody Hermione Granger.


	4. Chapter 3  Hermione

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any version of Beauty and the Beast. If I did I would not be testing my writing skills on fanfiction.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews everyone! I didn't realize quite how motivating they are until I start to receive them myself. They make me feel guilty for not reviewing other people more often.

"ROOAAAARRRRR!"

Hermione shot into a sitting position and reached under her arm for her wand. When she felt nothing, she risked glancing down and caught a glimpse of it on the edge of the comforter she was resting on.

_What the hell?_

She leaped off the bed, and backed towards the wall until she slammed into the doorways of a massive wardrobe. She jumped away from the humongous doors, wand at the ready. The doors slowly creaked open on their own. Without understanding what she was seeing, she found herself walking closer to the wardrobe and opening it wide open.

It was filled with dresses. Most were frilly and extremely over the top, and everything practically reeked of money. Hesitantly, she pushed through the clothes, flipping through the dresses to find each more extravagant than the next. _Whoever lives here must have taste that belongs centuries in the past. _

She began to turn around to examine the rest of the room, but quickly flipped back towards the wardrobe. Roughly pushing the dresses aside, she stepped into the wardrobe and knocked on the hard back wall. She sighed quietly. Damn. No secret entrance to Narnia.

She turned back around, absorbing the classy bedroom she was in. She could only assume her attempt at apparating had gone terribly wrong. She was tempted to go exploring, but she was still the reasonable girl she had been at Hogwarts. She had a wedding tomorrow. Traveling the world was one thing. Getting killed in a mysterious house was another. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and felt her body begin to convulse as she apparated back home.

Her eyes snapped open as she landed promptly on her ass on the plush carpet.

Maybe she wasn't concentrating right. She stood and tried again.

And again landed on the floor.

Suddenly fearful, she snatched her wand off the ground beside her. "Lumos."

Nothing happened.

"LLumos! Lumos! LUMOS!"

She felt like she was fighting with a broom during her first year at Hogwarts all over again. Her wand did nothing, no matter what spell she tried. In aggravation, she flopped onto her back. She was alone, in some strange house, with no magic.

"_**ROOOAAARRRRRR!" **_

She watched as one of the glass statues on a shelf in the corner of the room fell to the floor and shattered as the entire room vibrated with the intensity of the noise.

And to add to her list, there was a wild animal loose.

All she had wanted was a little adventure.

Resolute, she turned back to the bed. She would just have to get outside. Then she could start walking. There had to be a town somewhere nearby. As far as she knew, it wasn't like she was prisoner here or anything. Maybe she just hadn't focused enough earlier. She was Hermione Granger after all. If there was a way out, she would find it.

She grabbed her phone, immediately noticing that there was no signal. All the items that had been in her purse were spread out on the bed, as if someone had shifted through it. The note she received from Ron that morning was on the floor. If someone had brought her here, and then gone through her things, she was in more trouble than she had first thought.

She grabbed the first heavy item she found – a large copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ no less. They – whoever they were – were from the wizarding world then. They had stripped her magic, but they left her alone. They were either very stupid or very cocky.

She peaked out into the hallway, and, seeing no one, she slipped out of the room. She winced as glass broke under her sneakers. Looking down, she realized that the floor was covered n debris. Apparently, someone had been in the room with her, and whoever they were, they had left in quite a hurry and left a mess behind them.

Inching down the long hallway, she followed the trail of debris around corners and up stairwells. She found no sign of anyone else and no sign of an exit. Finally, after quite a few more flights of stairs, she ended up in front of the door of what she must assume was a tower.

Her hand grazed the doorknob and the door creaked quietly as it opened. Her eyes glazed over everything in the room, focusing on the object floating above a small table in the dead center of the room. A single, perfect red rose hovered six inches in the air. Hypnotized, she walked towards it, forgetting about the trail she had been following, the noises, her fear, and even her upcoming wedding.

Mesmerized by the beauty of the flower, she felt the book fall out of her hands and thump onto the floor. She reached out to touch its blood red petals.

"_**HOW DARE YOU COME HERE!"**_

The floor shook, and Hermione flipped around, released from the flower's spell. Out of the darkest corner of the room, a person started to emerge. Within seconds, she realized it wasn't a person at all – it was a hairy beast, wearing what appeared to be dress pants.

Having seen many strange things in her life, Hermione was ready to reply, when the creature leaped and was suddenly looming over her. It snarled, saliva dripping off its pointed white teeth.

"_**GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"**_

Mouth gaping like a fish, she ducked under his arm and bolted out the door, running for her life.


	5. Chapter 4  Draco

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any version of Beauty and the Beast. If I did I would not be testing my writing skills on fanfiction.

**Author's Note:** Over 300 hits! Wow! Thanks so much for reading everyone! Constructive criticism is appreciated, so please review away!

_**"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD!"**_

For some reason, even though Draco thought the last three words and formed them with his mouth, they didn't come out. Regardless, Granger ran out of the room gaping like a fish. If he didn't have the face of a canine, he would be smirking in glory right now. He made a self-righteous Gryffindor run away.

"Now Draco. That wasn't so nice."

Draco practically jumped out of his skin. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were going to disappear and leave me to die in peace?"

The enchantress, now much more casually dressed in a modern-day jeans and a t-shirt reading 'Change an Asshole, Change the World,' pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning on. "I had every intention to. But then I started to think about you, and I realized that you could very well be the first asshole I have attempted to reform who is an idiot as well."

His back straightened as much as was possible, and he attempted to stand tall. "How dare you! I was second in my year at Hogwarts and the best wizard at potions in decades."

"Second?" The smirk that crossed the woman's face made Draco envious. "So who was first?"

Draco simply glared at her, refusing to answer.

"I see. Well let me spell this out for you again." She leaned on the table her rose was hovering above and grabbed it neatly out of the air. She twirled it between her fingers, watching its movements before carelessly tossing it on the floor and striding towards Draco, her face becoming more furious with each step.

"_**You**_ care for no one but yourself._**I**_ am giving you an opportunity to reform before _**you**_ die old and alone and go to hell. _**She**_ is your only chance of not spending the rest of your life as a dog. _**You**_ are set on waiting for better. _**I**_ am here to warn _**you**_that there is absolutely no one in this universe whose love you deserve less than hers. _**She**_is outside running away from you because_**you**_are too much of an idiot to carry on a decent conversation and decide to scare the girl instead."

Draco found himself backed against a wall, with the woman towering over him. Bloody hell. She was worse than his mother. Once she whipped around and stalked to the other side of the room, he found the nerve to speak. "Even if I could get her to look past my horrifying appearance – which, unless she becomes blind in that forest, is highly unlikely – this is Granger we are talking about. The star of the Golden Trio. Scarhead's best friend. Weasle's boyfriend – maybe even fiancé if the papers were right. You sent her to fall in love with me? All she does is study all day. I could be the hottest stud in the world, and she wouldn't lift her nose two inches away from her book to notice."

A small smile crossed her lips. "In the last few weeks Draco, you have already been deceived once by outward appearances. Don't you think it could happen again?" She turned and walked towards the window. "I only promised you one chance. And remember: she has to fall in love with you. But you have to fall in love with her as well."

Draco blinked, and the woman vanished before his eyes. He was alone, again. No – not alone. Granger was somewhere around.

_What the hell is wrong with you? Thinking of that mudblood as company? At this rate you'll be panting at her heels in a week!_

_All I have to do is get Granger to fall for me, and then convince the damn witch that I love the girl. Then I am home free._

_You better be faking all of it…_

_Duh. Granger is just a pawn who is used to being queen. _

When he was done arguing with himself, Draco snatched the mirror off of the table in the middle of his mother's old bedroom. He turned it around in his hands, looking for some kind of button to activate it. Nothing. It looked like a regular hand mirror. He banged on the edge of the table a few times, and finally yelled at it. "Show me Granger!"

Within seconds, the glass fogged up and he saw the girl darting between the trees outside the manor gates. _Damn she's fast._

Figuring everything must be voice-activated, he said loudly to the room, "Don't let her leave." He continued to watch her in the mirror, running down various paths and continuously ending up back at the front gate. The more frustrated she got, the harder he laughed. Finally, obviously angry, Granger appeared to give up and stormed through the gates looking like she was ready to kill anything that crossed her path.

"Gates, close." Draco laughed mercilessly as she flipped around and ran towards the iron gates, reaching them just as they slammed together and locked. After banging on the gates for a full five minutes, she flipped around, facing the grounds and let out a scream that could only be beaten by his newfound roaring skills.

_Fiery little witch, isn't she?_


End file.
